


Kisses After Practice

by Alices_Madness



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Brooklyn, Driving, Football | Soccer, Light Angst, Medda is an absolute mother hen, Multi, Polyamory, Race is kinda angsty, Sports, Trans Male Character, and we love her, btw he is still in the school parking lot when he parks the car don't worry, but you cant really by angsty, i'll let you figure out why, like maybe 5 sentences, no editing we die like the men we aren't, not a whole lot, race is the only one with a license between them, she adopted Racer Jack Specs Elmer and Jojo she is a saint, that is my headcannon yes, then its cute again, trans!Racetrack, when you have spot conlon crying in your backseat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22300519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alices_Madness/pseuds/Alices_Madness
Summary: What happens on the drive home after practice stays there.Otherwise known as Race gives his boyfriends a drive home and things get cheesy, romantic and very overdramatic. Que Overdramatic Theater Gay But Also The Quarterback Of The Best Football Team In The State And The BEst Boyfriend In The World Brooklynite Spot Conlon.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Crutchie (mentioned), Spot Conlon/Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins
Kudos: 33





	Kisses After Practice

Race trudged off the field, muddy, tired, and bruised, after soccer practice. Albert was just behind him as the team walked back to the locker rooms. Race quickly found his locker, opening it and pulling out his bag. He picked it up, finding an open bathroom stall to change in. He pulled off his jersey, balling it up and tossing it in a plastic bag. As he looked down at himself, and self-assessed, he didn’t have the energy to put his binder on. He tugged at the high-impact sports bra he wore, before sighing and just throwing on a t-shirt. He finished changing, put a bit of deodorant on, knowing he’d be thrown in the shower before he even got in the house by Specs. He slung his bag over his shoulder, grimacing as it hit a patch of grass-rash. Road-rash, but caused by skidding on the ground. He walked out, going to wait for Albert to finish changing. As he waited, he saw Oscar Delancey send him a sneer from across the locker room, and Race just smiled. He knew Oscar didn’t have the balls to do shit to him, not after what Jack, Spot, and Albert did to Morris last week. Finally, Albert walked over. As soon as the door shut behind them, they shared a small kiss.

“You know if Spot’s out yet?” Albert asked. Race quickly pulled out his phone as they climbed in the car, throwing their bags in the trunk. He saw he had a text from Spot, and he opened it.

“Coach was being a dick, made us take an extra three laps. Be there a little late.” Race read it out to Albert.

“How much you wanna bet it was Elmer being a dumbass again?”

“Do I even need to bet?” They laughed. They hung out in the car for a few minutes, watching the others from soccer practice all leave. Finally, he saw Spot walking through the emptying parking lot. He had his duffel bag slung across his chest and his backpack on one shoulder. He had his head down, looking at his phone. Race started the car, the sound of the engine catching Spot’s attention. He looked up from his phone and smiled. It was still a minute before Spot reached the car though. He opened the back seat, taking off his bags and throwing them in.

“Bags can go in the trunk,” Albert told him, twisting around in his seat. Spot followed and tossed his bags in the trunk. He leaned forward, giving Albert a kiss, before tapping Race’s shoulder.

“Kiss?” He asked. Race thought for a second.

“You’re all sweaty though.”

“Oh come on, you are too.”

“True.” Race quipped, before putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking spot. Spot let out a dramatic sigh, falling against the seat.

“It’s true, you don’t love me anymore! I’m crushed, how will I survive?” He lamented, throwing a hand out to the sky.

“I still love you.” Albert pointed out.

“Whatever, that’s not the point here.” Albert clutched his chest.

“I’m not the main focus here? How dare you?!?”

“Al,”

“No, no I get it, I’m not as important as Racetrack, I get it, you don’t care about me, I get it.” Albert waved away Spot's comments, turning away to the window, fake crying. Race laughed, stopping the car and putting in in park, turning around to face his boyfriends.

“You guys really are stupid,” Race shook his head, before pressing a quick kiss to Spots lips and then to Alberts. He turned around again, starting to drive.

“Oh, my Prince Charming, you’ve saved me! You’ve broken the curse! I have found true love! No longer will I have to stick with boyfriends who say I’m not the focus!” Albert fake-swoons.

“Shut it, Al.” Spot pulled Albert towards him, kissing him. Race pulls out of school driveway, and onto the road. They all settled in their seats, watching as the chilly November evening grew darker as they drove. Finally, Race pulled up in front of Albert’s place. They shared a quick kiss, then Spot and Albert, then Albert climbed out of the car, walking to the back and getting his stuff out fo the trunk.

“Bye guys, see you tomorrow! Love you!” He called before shutting the trunk and walking up the walkway to his house. Spot got out, now claiming the passenger seat as Race drove away from the curb.

“How was practice today?” He asked. 

“Fine. Oscar tried to get Coach to stick me bench again, but Coach stuck him bench for the rest of practice.” They laughed.

“You know what I mean, though,” Spot continued to ask. Race sighed and Spot persisted, “Babe, I care about you. I love you. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“I know, I know. I didn’t wear my binder to practice this time. I didn’t even put it on afterward.” Race explained.

“Good, see, that's good. You feel better this time, I bet.”

“Kinda. I wore the high-impact sports bra this time, it still doesn’t feel great though.”

“I know, baby, but you have to stop wearing your binder to practice. It’s gonna cause issues, and you already have enough of those.” That caused them to laugh.

“I know, its just, fuck, I’m a boy! Why couldn’t I have just been born a boy like you guys? You and Albert, you were both born right, why wasn’t I? I can’t even do soccer without having those dick bags do something, or have something happen.”

“You aren’t just a boy. You’re a man, Anthony Higgins. And you’re my man, and you’re Albert’s man. You’re our man. And god help us if you do anything to yourself because you can’t see the man in you at soccer practice without hurting yourself. You’re more a man than anyone else could ever hope to be because you’re brave enough to be one.” Race sighed. He really did love his overbearing Brooklynite boyfriend.

“Thank you.”

“No no, thank you, for letting me love a handsome, wonderful, man like you.” Race stopped the car, turning to Spot.

“I love you.” Race engulfed him in a hug across the console.

“I love you too, Race.” His words might’ve been muffled against the cotton fabric of Race’s shirt, but they reached him all the same. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Race’s phone started ringing.” He pulled himself away from Spot, picking up his phone, groaning when he saw Jack’s contact picture.

“Racer! Where are you? Medda’s holding dinner, and Specs is killing me here!” Jack complained as soon as Race picked up.

“I’m on my way now, practice lasted longer than I thought.”

“Well, hurry up!” With that, Jack hung up.

“Guess we gotta go. Wanna come for dinner? We can eat, shower, then I can drive you home.” Race offered.

“Nah, Hotshot would kill me. Tonight's taco night.” He laughed.

“Well, let's go, I don’t want us both dead, who’d love Albert?”

“I heard Crutchie wouldn’t mind too much.” Spot offered as Race started the car, pulling back into the road and continued driving.

“Oooh I’m gonna have to look into that, that’d be nice. Crutchie’s a nice kid, he could bring some calm into Al’s life.”

“Not gonna say anything, but I think it’d be nice to have someone who ain’t a chronic dumbass in this group.” That made them both laugh.

“Yeah, that might be a nice idea.” The rest of the ride to Spot’s place passed in silence, Spot and Race holding hands on the console between them. Finally, Race parked in Spots driveway. Race turned to say goodbye.

“You are a wonderful, handsome, strong, heroic man, Anthony Higgins. We’re lucky to have you around. I love you,” Spot pulled him in for a hug, before pulling away, “Kiss?” He asked.

“Of course, you dumbass. I love you too.” They shared a small, tender, loving kiss, before the sounds of Hotshot releasing Spot was home, and it was finally dinner time came from the house.

“Gotta go. Love you.” Spot pecked Races lips, before quickly getting out of the car, grabbing his bags from the back and walking up to his house. Race pulled out of the driveway and drove home, happy, with a smile on his face.


End file.
